


Seven Years and 1.25-Carat Diamond

by ardentiafrost



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts, Married Couple, Post-War, Secret Marriage, Short & Sweet, Victory Ball, remembering the fallen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24821185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentiafrost/pseuds/ardentiafrost
Summary: It's the annual Victory Ball to celebrate Harry dispatching Voldemort to the afterlife, and Hermione gets a little blast from the past.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 106





	Seven Years and 1.25-Carat Diamond

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters or the plot lines. If I did, then HP/GW would never have happened.
> 
> A/N: This is AU. The Final Battle didn't happen at Hogwarts, it happened at Malfoy Manor. This plot bunny decided to hop around til I wrote it, so I hope you enjoy, even if it's a bit wordy.

Hermione sat alone at one of the tables between the dance floor and the shadier corners of the Great Hall. _It's good to be back_ , she thought, taking in the decorations. They were tasteful, but not overly extravagant. She was pretty sure that Professor McGonagall did so tactfully to remember the fallen as well as the victory and the survivors.

A flurry of bubbles filled the champagne glass that was sitting innocently at the tip of Hermione's butter knife as it filled with the light yellow drink. She gave a small chuckle. The house elves were as efficient as ever. She brought the glass to her lips and took a sip of bubbly.

The walls were lined with photographs of those that had fallen, their best pictures. Hermione spotted a picture of Fred and George Weasley. They were among the most valiant heroes of the war. They died saving an entire village on the battlefront. The two hundred and three people that lived because of the twins were forever changed. _Ironic,_ Hermione mused _, no one expected them to have such profound impact on other people's lives. The jokers_. The joke shop they left behind was now Ron's responsibility, and it was doing well. The twins would be proud. Hermione raised her glass slightly in a silent toast.

Her gaze fell on another picture. Seamus and Dean. Her heart gave a twinge. They were counted among the lost, even if they were still alive. They were still in comas following a raid gone wrong. They had followed Viktor Krum and Professor Slughorn into a trap. Krum and Slughorn survived with a few injuries, but the other two never woke up.

That had been the final straw in her relationship with Krum. He had confessed that he was trying to hurry, to get back to the base, because he didn't like the thought of her alone, tending to a then-wounded Harry. _The nerve_ , Hermione grumbled inwardly. She squashed the thought before it could ruin the mood. Past was past, even if it was one of the stupidest things she had ever done.

There were so many others, fellow students, professors, friends' families. They all brought a great sense of appreciation for life to those that lived on. Hermione's focus shifted to the one wall adorned not with the fallen, but with the living. The people that had taken part in the war and survived. At the very center, despite the three-fold protest, was a large portrait of Harry, Hermione and Ron.

Despite her humble protest of the picture, Hermione couldn't help but regard it. There the three of them stood, mud-caked, soot-covered and exhausted. They'd been surprised by the flash of the camera when they led the surviving legion back to their base. It had been a mere two hours since the final battle in Malfoy Manor. Hermione stopped herself there. She would not give Voldemort the satisfaction of haunting her with the darkness and fear they had all experienced in those hours. No, she would not let Voldemort torment anyone any longer. She looked at Ron's profile. He was bulkier than Harry, more muscled. He was covered in bruises, but he still managed to smile for the camera. His blue eyes told the story of the war he'd just help end - a story that said he and the two people next to him were forced to grow up far quicker than anyone else.

Hermione turned to Harry. His dark hair was unruly as ever, but it didn't hide the one thing that mattered most. The unique scar on his forehead, or rather, the _lack_ of the said scar. Once Voldemort had been defeated, it had faded into nothing. His emerald green eyes, the ones everyone said were just like his mother's, shone with weariness but a sense of victory. _He was grateful to be able to rest_ , Hermione thought to herself. Harry, who had been deprived of so much as he grew up, had finally fulfilled the destiny fate had thrust upon him. He was now free to live his life, to have fun without a care, to _love_ without worrying for anyone's safety.

Hermione turned to herself. It had been seven years since then. She smiled wistfully. She had matured a little over the last seven years. Her features were more refined. She had gained a little weight to make up for the emaciated form the war had thrown upon her. Her eyes, though, they remained the same as the chocolate brown orbs of the girl she saw in the picture - the one that stole a glance at the Harry in the picture every now and then.

She turned to the doors. The party had barely begun, really. She just liked to sit there alone for a few moments to take in the old pictures. She liked to remember the fallen, so at least someone did. It was easier than visiting all their graves and being surrounded by their deaths rather than their triumphant lives.

Hermione stood and watched as a few guests trickled in.

"Looking for me?" inquired a deep Bulgarian accent.

Hermione winced. She should've paid closer attention. The years after the war had dulled her sharp senses. She pasted a polite smile on her face and turned to face the voice's owner. "Viktor," she greeted sweetly.

"You still miss me, Hermione Granger," he said. He had developed a smoother form of his once-poor English. He also wasn't asking when he said she missed him.

Hermione had to stop herself from laughing. She shook her head. "You're still full of yourself, Viktor," she replied, turning back to the doors as a tall man of twenty-four walked in. There was a distant chorus of greetings and pats on the back.

"But you don't deny it," Viktor countered.

Hermione smiled at that as she turned back to face Viktor, suddenly invigorated. "As a matter of fact, I do," she said. She caught a loose strand of hair near her cheek with her left hand and wove it behind her ear. Her grin got even broader as Viktor's face fell at the sight of her hand.

On her left hand was a silver band with a perfectly cut, clear 1.25-carat diamond. The stone was flanked by a smaller ruby and sapphire - the birthstones of July and September.

Hermione looked back at the newcomer and smiled to him. Her eyes spoke for her. _Just a moment_. She took a step away from Viktor before she turned and said, "And Viktor?"

Viktor looked at her expectantly, thinking there was no other way she could possibly humiliate him.

"My last name's Potter now," she said.

Hermione turned on her heel, her midnight blue gown flaring perfectly as she moved. She walked towards the dance floor, and met Harry right at the center.

"Trouble with the ex?" Harry asked.

His voice was light, joking, but Hermione knew better. His eyes were dark with an emotion caught between jealousy and protectiveness. Hermione's heart fluttered at that. She brought her hand up to his clean-shaven jaw in a light caress. "Not at all," she replied. "I just," she paused emphatically, casting a sidelong glance at Viktor for effect, "gave him an advanced announcement."

"Oh?" Harry grunted, trying to keep his eyes on Hermione so he wouldn't glare at Viktor then hunt him down.

"I flashed my ring," Hermione giggled.

Harry's mood lifted. He couldn't help but grin. Hermione was proud to wear _his_ ring.

Hermione was about to make a sarcastic comment to the abrupt change in demeanor Harry underwent, but she realized that the spotlight had just settled onto them.

Ron's voice filled the Great Hall. "I've been dying to tell the bloody world this for a few weeks now, but the lovebirds wouldn't allow it. So, now that they're getting all cuddly down there on the dance floor, I'd like to present to you all, Mister and Missus Harry Potter!"

There was a boom of applause with several people mumbling " _finally_ " to each other in the background.

"I'm going to hex him," Hermione muttered.

"Maybe later," Harry told her before he framed her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

Cheers and clapping exploded around the Great Hall, except for where Viktor Krum was standing.


End file.
